


The Old Ways

by imagined_haven



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27318244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagined_haven/pseuds/imagined_haven
Summary: As she and her friends celebrate Samhain, Aelin Galathynius welcomes the possibility of something new into her life.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	The Old Ways

Aelin sighed quietly as she slipped away from the party going on in her living room. It was proceeding well enough, Fenrys having gone from managing drinks to drunkenly scrolling through the playlist she had set up, but there was something she had to do before they lit the bonfire she’d prepared in the backyard and she didn’t want to be distracted.

It had become commonplace for any group gatherings to be hosted by Aelin ever since she had inherited her parents’ estate in the countryside, and she didn’t mind. In fact, she felt her parents would have loved the new life her friends breathed into the space. But on this night in particular, it was only right to honor those who had come and gone and given them this space to enjoy.

The photographs of her family were close to hand, Aelin having prepared for this moment in advance so that she would only need to be away for a few minutes. It only took her a few moments to put together a plate of the various snacks that would soon be on offer for her friends and place it at the small table tucked into the corner of the room.

The door slowly opened as she was arranging their photos next to the food, and she turned to face whoever was coming to find her. “The food will be out in a few minutes, and not even Fenrys could possibly have drunk through _everything_ —”

The words died on her tongue as she met startled green eyes.

Of all the people she had expected to come looking for her, Rowan Whitethorn was perhaps the one she had least expected. Where most of her cousin’s friends had taken well enough to including her in their group, she and Rowan had clashed terribly at first. It had taken Aedion quite literally locking them into a room at the last party she had thrown for them to reach an uneasy friendship, built on the realization that their jagged edges had been ground into them by similar tragedies. While they were now unlikely to end the evening in a fiery screaming match, she would not have thought he would’ve come looking for her even if he’d been the one who needed something.

Shoving her shock aside for a moment, she adjusted one of the photos again before offering him a wry smile. “Sorry, I thought you were Aedion, or maybe Lysandra.”

Rowan shook his head, platinum locks falling over his eyes with the gesture. “Fenrys decided the party wasn’t loud enough, and I decided somewhere quieter might be better until Connall takes the controls away from him,” he admitted.

“Ah,” Aelin muttered as she returned her attention to her task. It suddenly made a great deal more sense why he had appeared; while she and Fenrys both tended to thrive on the attention of being in the center of a party, Rowan had always remained on the outskirts of such events. He would attend readily enough, but he usually seemed content to observe rather than lose himself in revelry.

As she continued her work, she felt rather than heard him approach. “I didn’t realize you kept to the Old Ways,” he said quietly.

She turned to him again to see his gaze focused on the photographs of her family. “I would hardly call myself devout,” she confessed, “but it’s Samhain. It only seemed right to honor those who gave us this place.”

It was true enough, if perhaps not the entire truth. While her mother had taught her the Old Ways as a child, doing what she could to pass along her heritage to a child who was barely interested in the stories she had to tell, it wasn’t until a few months before her parents’ deaths that she had truly come to appreciate them. Now that they were gone, it was one of the only connections to them she had remaining.

Rowan didn’t seem interested in pursuing her reasons further, though. Instead, he took a few more moments to take in her display before turning to her with a question lingering in his gaze. Before she could determine exactly what it was, though, he spoke. “Do you mind if I set one out, too?”

Startled by the question, Aelin barely managed a nod. Soon a second plate of food was set out beside her own, and Rowan paused for a moment before pulling a small photo of a lovely brunette from his wallet and carefully placing it among the other items on the table.

It had to be a photo of Lyria, she realized, even though they had never had the chance to meet. This was the woman Rowan had married just after graduating high school, the one who had had a promising future and a child on the way before a car crash took everything from her and left him with only memories. “I know you’re not supposed to judge people based on a picture, but she looks like she was wonderful,” she offered quietly.

Rowan looked at her, a faint glimmer of silver highlighting the green of his eyes. “She was,” he replied.

They spent the next few moments in silence, the Old Ways demanding that they spend time contemplating the family they were honoring in this way. While Aelin didn’t believe the tales that suggested that their beloved dead would visit them on Samhain if left a space at the table, she found the details of the practice were less important than the intention of taking the time to remember them.

Perhaps that was the importance her mother had tried so desperately to convey to an uninterested young Aelin so long ago. It was hard to say, and she wasn’t exactly around to answer the question. Still, it felt right, and so she decided to accept it.

What was stranger to her was how right it felt to invite Rowan into her space for such a personal moment. She would never have believed that of all their friends he was the one who would share such a moment with her, if she chose to share it at all. She had never given much thought to his feelings or beliefs regarding the matter at all, in fact. Despite that, though, she found she was comforted by his respect of the ritual, and she realized with a glimmer of surprise that she couldn’t imagine any of their other friends in his place.

Finally she stepped away from the table, and he turned to look at her again. “Thank you,” he managed. “You didn’t have to let me.”

Aelin shrugged. “It seemed right. Honoring the old, but making way for the new. That’s what Samhain is all about, right?”

He smiled at that and nodded in reply before saying, “We should probably get back to the others before Fenrys decides he can light your bonfire himself.”

She winced. “He would, wouldn’t he?”

When they both rushed back into the living room Aelin was relieved to find that their friends were all still gathered around the drinks rather than moving to the backyard. That relief immediately vanished when Fenrys chimed in with an off-color joke about what Aelin and Rowan could’ve been doing with all that alone time before dissolving into a fit of laughter.

Aelin grimaced and glanced over at Rowan to gauge his response, but he must’ve been feeling unusually charitable. Rather than growling at his friend or snarling out a reply, he smirked. “Is that jealousy, boyo?”

As their friends laughed, Aelin opened the door to her backyard. “All right, you guys,” she called. “It’s just about dark enough to light the fire.”

In just a few short minutes they had all gathered around the pile of wood she had spent the past few days gathering, and it was the work of a moment to set it ablaze. As they quietly watched the flames ignite the larger logs, Aelin felt a warm presence approach and turned to see that Rowan was once more beside her. “And so the old gives way to the new,” he said quietly, eyes on the growing fire.

Emboldened by the intimacy of the moment they had shared inside, Aelin tucked herself against his side, in part to protect herself from the cool breeze and in part to enjoy his warmth. She was now close enough to him that she could feel him stiffen in surprise, but before she could say anything to defend herself he simply wrapped an arm around her waist. With a smile, she relaxed into the hold despite the knowledge in the back of her mind that it would only lead to more teasing.

When she turned her head to face him again she noticed that he had been looking at her rather than at the bonfire, and she felt her cheeks flush at the realization. Uncertain of how to respond to the attention, she simply raised a questioning eyebrow.

Rowan chuckled, softly enough that she felt it rather than truly hearing it. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” he asked, voice softer and warmer than she had perhaps ever heard it.

Aelin grinned in reply and nestled herself closer. “I try,” she said.

They didn’t say anything else as they watched the fire burn, but before they broke apart she could’ve sworn she felt the faintest brush of lips against her hair.

Where once Aelin might have protested loudly, now she only smiled. The old giving way to the new, indeed.


End file.
